


Heatstroke

by stammed_cleams



Category: Farscape
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, M/M, One Shot, Pining, Reminiscing, Sebacean heatstroke, going to die together trope, hurt comfort, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28413168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stammed_cleams/pseuds/stammed_cleams
Summary: When Bialar Crais and John Crichton are stuck together in a shuttlepod with broken heating, Crais begins to run into trouble.
Relationships: Bialar Crais/John Crichton
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Heatstroke

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiiiii guys!!!! so i might have completely died for a few months there and completely abandoned this blog. thats a whoopsie for me!! i KNOW you all want more and the city dreamt of me i KNOW you do but unfortunately my muse is a wily thing which has made me devote all of my energy to an original work about teenagers and aliens lately so thats just how it is. anyway!!! i dont know if ANYONE in the farscape fandom is still alive, but if you are, howdy pal!!! dust off those cobwebs bone boy because someones writing fics for it again. these two had SO much chemistry it was just UNREAL
> 
> ok yall this one might be a dud but on the offchance youve seen this show and like this ship. enjoy.

“I hate you, you know,” Crais said, for at least the twelfth time that hour. Crichton didn’t react, remaining focused on the panel before him, carefully sorting through wires. Sweat was pouring down his face, and not just because of the stress - it had been getting progressively hotter and hotter because of some malfunction in the temperature of the shuttlepod. Crichton was severely uncomfortable to say the least, but Crais was dying.

“I know,” Crichton responded, as he had said the last several times, “I think I’m close to figuring out the source of the problem, so hang in there.”   


“Have you got it out for my bloodline, Crichton?” Crais said, from where he was propped up, “You kill my brother and then come back for me?”

“Nope. Just a bad engineer,” Crichton answered.

“And a bad pilot.”

“That too.”   


Crais sighed heavily, groaning to himself as he brought his hand to his face and attempted to slick his hair back and wipe off some of the sweat. His hand was shaking violently. He pulled it away from himself, looked at it cautiously, and then let it fall back down to his side. 

“No… you’re not that good a man,” Crais said, “I bet you won’t even kill me. You’ll let me half-die. You wouldn’t do me the honor.”

“Nope, I wouldn’t,” Crichton said, “I wouldn’t do either because you’re going to be fine, now hang in there.”

“If you’re getting close tell me what inlet stream it’s in? You must at least know that by now.”   


“Uh…” Crichton said, looking down at the mess of things he didn’t understand. Hopelessly he said, “The third one?”   


“Oh, God,” Crais responded, bringing his hand back to his face, “Not like this. Not with you.”   


Crichton leaned back from the panel for a moment, beginning to feel the hopelessness seep into him as well. “There must be something I can do.”

“I know the controls better than you, you insolent human.” he said, and attempted to sit up to see the panel, before crying out in pain and falling back on his side, panting there. Crichton rushed to him, placing his hands on his shoulders as to make sure he didn’t fall.

“Will you just hold still?” 

Panting, Crais attempted to pull away from Crichton, though it did him little good. “I may be our only chance get through this. For both of us. At what point does heatstroke kill your species?”

“I’m not sure. Hotter than this, this is a summer day in Louisiana at best.”

“In degrees, moron,” Crais scolded.

“Alright, maybe… 120, 110 if we’re out there too long. It only feels about 90 in here, I’ll be fine for another hour or two if it keeps going up at this rate, it’s you you need to worry about.”

“Trust me, I am! But clearly you don’t know how to work this thing so I’ll just have to do it myself. I refuse to die here without trying.” With another exclamation of pain he pulled himself away, sliding himself over to the panel and awkwardly propping himself up. This seemingly small amount of effort seemed to exhaust him as he went limp against the bottom of the chair he was leaning on. Slowly, his eyes began to flutter closed and his head began to dip down as he frantically pulled himself back into consciousness. 

“Hey. Hey, Crais, stay with me!” Crichton said, hurrying over to him and shaking his shoulders, “Don’t do this to me, man, I put in all this goddamn effort and now you’re just gonna die!? Come on!” He shook him more roughly and he blinked his eyes open, eyebrows creasing. “Alright now, I need you to tell me how to use these controls, you’re the only competent one, remember?!”

As though afraid, Crais began to shake his head, “I don’t know how…” he said.

“Yes you do, now come on, I need your help!”   


“Don’t make me do this anymore,” he whispered, “I want to go home.”

“What?” Crichton whispered, “Crais, don’t do this to me,”

“I don’t know how, I’m sorry. I did try, I did… I did try…” as he muttered this, his eyes began to flicker closed again, his head rolling forward.

“Crais!” Crichton cried. “God dammit!” He then looked frantically to the panel. Temperature control. Central power. Air was another port (he hoped) but any temperature at all was regulated through here. This was what was pumping the hot air into the shuttle. That was what was killing him. In a feat of anger he reached within it, took a hold of all the wires he could, and pulled. He fell back as they all came straight out of the panel, there was a shaking in the ship, and the monotonous hum of something came down to a low buzz before stopping. He sighed, and waited. It was hard to tell if the heat was going down, but if he knew his biomechanics, it should. He realized, of course, that this would make it ridiculously cold with no way of fixing it. But that wasn’t his priority right now - Crais was. He returned to him, shaking his shoulders.

“Crais!” he said, “Come on Crais, wake up! Dammit… I got the heat to go down, it’s gonna get cool again and you’re gonna be fine. Come on, Aeryn made it way longer than this… Crais!” No result. Despondently he laid him down on the ground he was and resolved to the fact that there was nothing left to do but hope.

Slowly but surely, the temperature began to go down. Crichton was relieved at the change, no longer sweating or parched for water and beginning to feel the sweat on his clothes cool as the temperature became manageable. When it was just starting to feel like a warm Spring day, he heard the slight sound of Crais rising beside him. He snapped to attention.

“Crais?” he said, and hurried over beside him. Slowly, his eyes opened to see him. Immediately, they filled with panic.

“Crichton,” he identified. He scrambled to pull himself away, but groaned again and fell flat. He swallowed. “What happened?”   


“I got the temperature down. Unfortunately it’s going to keep going down until we both freeze. I’m afraid it was the best I could do,” he looked to him carefully, “How do you feel?”   


“Like I’ve just died.”

“You almost did.”

He took a moment to focus on what was going on, looking around him, “How did you get the heat off.”

“Well I figured… if the temperature wasn’t working neither would the heat.” Meekly, he lifted up the bunch of wires from beside him. Crais sighed, his head falling back.

“You really are incompetent,” he said, “But I don’t understand. There was a chance you would have survived.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly comfortable killing two Craises, was I? People would think I had some sort of… family vendetta.” Crais forced himself carefully up, sitting up next to him against the chair. He looked at him, a deep surprise in his eyes. Crichton looked back at him for a moment, and then looked back down. “And besides, what with all the trouble you caused the last thing I want is Mama Crais coming after me.”

“My mother is dead,” Crais responded. Crichton looked around awkwardly.

“Ah,” he said, “Sorry for bringing up a sore subject.”   


“Don’t worry about it,” he said, “It doesn’t bother me.”

“Well, that’s good at least…” There was a pause, as they both looked out towards the back of the shuttle. 

“Well. Now I’ll die ten microts later than I would have. What an honor.”

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted me to kill you! Well here I am! I hope you’re happy with me.” Crichton responded defensively, “Oh that’s right, I almost forgot. You hate me. See, you haven’t reminded me in the past six minutes.” He laughed bitterly, looking away. Crais looked back at him.

“You’re going to hold things I say in heat delirium against me?” he asked.

“You didn’t sound particularly delirious.”   


“Well,” Crais said, “I could try to kill you now, like I have been, live about an extra ten microts, if the cold doesn’t kill me before the suffocation does. But seeing how you just saved my life that wouldn’t exactly be… honorable.”

“Well… I’m flattered,” Crichton said sarcastically. 

“Besides that, I don’t particularly want to spend my final moments trying to kill somebody,” Crais went on, “What they don’t tell you about being angry is that it’s so… exhausting. I’d rather just not bother.”

Crichton smiled, “So what you’re saying is… it’s easier not to hate me, than to hate me? Funny, I’m used to hearing that sentiment in the reverse.”

“Don’t twist my words, human,” he sneered, “I’m merely saying I don’t feel like spending my final moments in a feud, not with anyone.”

“Well, me neither,” Crichton answered. He sighed, and shook his head. “You know I always hoped I’d die in space.”

“Why ever would you hope for something like that?”   


“Most of my kind don’t even make it up there, much less stay long enough to die. I suppose, in your terms, it’s very… honorable.”

“Oh, right. I forgot that you live on an uncivilized rock,” he responded. 

Crichton turned to him. “I suppose all Peacekeepers die in space then, huh?”   


“Of course,” Crais responded, “Born here, live here, die here. The idea of living on a planet is somewhat… antiquated.”

“Well, if you ask me, it had its charms,” Critchton said, “It is something of a shame I’ll never get back to mine.” He thought for a moment and then said, “You know I’ve been thinking about something. Technically, the same wormhole ruined both our lives, if you think about it. And now here we are. The crazy bastards’ victims, dying together as a result of it. Pretty wild…”

Crais raised his eyebrows, seeming to consider this. “I suppose that is one way to consider it…” he said. And then, a moment later, looking straight forward at the ground he went on, “It is not… so bad a death.” Crichton looked over to him surprised, and then smiled wide. A moment later Crais could no longer go on staring forward, turning to look at Crichton, his eyes tired and hopeful. Gently, Crichton leaned forward and kissed him. Surprised at first, Crais’ eyes remained open, before he shut them and sighed, reaching back and holding the back of Crichton’s head. They pulled each other gently closer and they stayed like this for quite some while. 


End file.
